


The Less I Know The Better

by 0pposing



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: AU, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BDSM, Consensual Underage Sex, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Phobias, Slow Romance, Stalking, Watching Someone Sleep, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7880092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0pposing/pseuds/0pposing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cigarette is pressed delicately in between Oliver's lips and he takes a small breath, then lets out the smoke through his nose, closing his eyes softly and groaning slightly. His eyes flutter open and they land on a young girl of 17 across the room, legs crossed indian style and her dark brown hair in two french braids. She is smiling to herself, her eyes closed and humming along to Dominique. Rolling her head to the side, her eyelashes are splayed on her cheeks like spiders and she opens her eyes, the light blue biting back at Doctor Thredson and he feels himself go weak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> A/U where Oliver Thredson does not impregnate Lana Winters nor kidnap her nor take an interest in her for a mother figure. He simply works at Briarcliff full time helping patients and upon doing so, finds himself in too deep with a prisoner trapped in her own head. He's still got mommy issues though, lol. I also want to establish that I was STRONGLY influenced by UnusualPairings' story "Tell My Story". If you haven't read that, pleaaase go read it. It's honestly one of the best fanfics I've ever read and they inspired me to write this story.

Oliver had been working with Adalyn Erin for about two weeks now, if it could even have been that long since he had been asked to help her. The Monsignor had begged him in his office, saying that if he had time for the less fortunate patients, he would be paid double for the amount of time he treated them. Of course, the doctor agreed heartily and questioned on what sort of patients he would be taking in. The Monsignor bowed his head in an effort to get Oliver to follow him, and follow him he did. Their shoes clicked dully down the concrete halls, past the cells of screaming patients and Shelley bouncing out, cupping her breasts and licking her teeth at Oliver. He ignored her and kept his eyes in front, stopping in front of a cell as the Monsignor tapped quietly.

"Adalyn?" He called. "You have a visitor." Timothy said as the guard unlocked the cell and pushed the door open, light flowing in on the girl sitting on her bed, the same position she was in when he had first laid eyes on her. Her dark brown hair, caressed around her collarbones, traveling down her neck and torso like blood splatters. Her blue dress was split down like a v-neck, done by herself with a pencil sharpener razor and she had bit off the remaining strings. "It gets hot in here." was her excuse towards Sister Jude when she was confronted about it.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled, her pearly white teeth almost gleaming in the light that she hadn't even seen for a couple of days. Adalyn soon realized that this was not a family member, nor a friend, but a stranger with a lumbering figure and a strong build. He took off his glasses and wiped them against his shirt, not looking at her.

"This is Adalyn." The Monsignor explained to Doctor Thredson. "She.. is a bit different. Not so bad as some others in here but nonetheless, they're all in here for a reason unfortunately. She actually turned herself in. Strangled her stepfather to death." The Monsignor tsked to himself and shook his head. "Anyways, she suffers from acute hysteria, panic attacks, and might I dare even add, depression. She has a keen tendency to hit the guards as well." Timothy's eyes flashed back to the guard standing outside of the door and Oliver turned as well, making a note of the large bruise on the guards bald head. Thredson nodded, mentally making note of everything he had just learned. He stepped forward towards her and extended a friendly hand and to his surprise, she lashed out at him, clawing the palm of his hand with her nails and drawing blood. Oliver retreated a couple steps behind the Monsignor, wincing and staring at the girl in front of him. Her pupils were wide, her face almost the color of paper and her brow furrowed.

Putting his hand to his mouth, his tongue trailed along the cut she had made on him before licking up the entire length of it and sucking on his wound. Her eyes widened and he stared, smirking. "I look forward to working with you Adalyn."

* * *

 Their first real appointment was nothing short of awkward. Adalyn had stood in front of the door for about 30 minutes, before she finally felt comfortable enough to make her to way his couch and when she did, she avoided eye contact the entire time. He would ask the occasional question, usually small talk and "how are you's?". Very thick barrier, he wrote on his notepad. 

He smoked about 3 cigarettes in the span of their first appointment to help ease his nerves. There was something off about her, something mysterious and something that he just couldn't quite put his finger on. She looked so innocent, so tired and so small and just completely out of this world. Everyone whispered about how she was caught up in her mind all the time and for a quick second, Oliver contemplated the idea of her having schizophrenia but compared with her other symptoms, that just didn't quite fit. He noticed she shied from people in the hallway, avoided the common room at almost all times, and even if she had an injury, refused to tell anyone about it. He tapped his pencil on his eyebrow and pursed his lips.

"Do you believe you need help, Ms. Erin?"

"My name is Adalyn."

"I see."

These three sentences were the only words that they had spoken to each other in the hour that she was in there and Oliver respected that. As soon as the long hand on the clock reached 12, she darted out, almost as if she had been watching it somehow the whole time. He  sighed and closed his files, putting his face in his hands. _Something happened to that girl,_ he thought to himself. _Trauma is so easy to detect._

His hands slid along the outside of her files, before he inhaled sharply. Cinnamon. A smile played on his face and he stood up, whistling to himself and exiting his office. "Frank? Can you bring me.." he flipped through his small folder, "Kit Walker?"

* * *

Up until their next appointment, Oliver spent most of his down time watching her from a distance, trying to pinpoint any sort of giveaway, even if it was minuscule. There was just something so off about her, something not right and it always left him wanting more. She constantly braided her hair outside, underneath the largest tree. Pepper always sat with her, but never touching. Adalyn would braid, unbraid, braid again, unbraid, and braid again. She did this over and over again until eventually her arms grew tired and she relaxed, telling a made up story to Pepper to get her to stop talking so much.

"That man likes youuu." Pepper spat out one day. "The _evil_ one. He's _evil_. Evil, evil." She repeated and laughed, clapping her hands against her head. Adalyn watched her but made no attempt to stop her. A guard rushed over and grabbed Pepper, forcing her arms by her side and Adalyn stared, a blank expression on her face. She finally looked up to the second story after Pepper was taken away and looked directly into the window Oliver was standing in front of, watching her. He continued to stare at her, licking his lips and beginning to perspire from his forehead. She stood up, unbraiding her hair and letting it fall down in waves. Adalyn looked away, walking back inside of the manor and he sighed deeply. His stomach was in knots, and he groaned, feeling the already beginning erection in his pants. He can't stop himself from thinking about her soft skin, pale and flawless and fragile. His hand travels down and he has to physically restrain himself and grinds his teeth together. _She is no mother_ , the voices in his head say, _she is too young and too stupid._

His thoughts are interrupted as his door opened and she stepped in, turning and shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She made her way to the couch and sat down, putting her hands in her lap and staring at the floor. He lets out a couple few straggling breaths, hoping the sweat on his forehead had vanished and he quickly adjusted himself before turning around and smiling at her.

"Hello, Adalyn." Oliver said to her, staring intently with his big chocolate eyes. "I see you haven't progressed much from our last meeting."

"I don't want to be here." she says in a small mousy voice. "So no wonder I haven't progressed." She mocked him as she said 'progressed'.

"Why?" Oliver asks. "I want to _help_ you."

"I don't need your help." She spat out before looking at him. "I don't like shrinks. You all think you're so smart and that you can just help everyone, blah blah." She makes a talking motion with her hand. "Last time, I sat here for a full hour while you stared at me, waiting for me to talk, so expect the same thing now." She brought her legs up to her chest, her small blue dress falling and exposing her creamy white thighs. She folded her arms around them and looked away from him, resting her chin on her knee.

"I'm not going to make you talk, Adalyn." Oliver spoke up eventually, lighting a cigarette and standing, making his way to the front of the desk and sitting on the corner, never taking his eyes off her. "Why don't you ask about me for a change? I'll answer anything." He said before taking a puff of his cigarette.

Her expression changed slightly and she bit her bottom lip, staring at the floor and pouting.

"How old are you?" She mumbled finally, releasing her death grip on her legs.

"37." He answered quickly.

"What's your favorite food?" She shot another question at him.

"Spaghetti. Wait, jello." He took another puff and watched her as she relaxed her muscles and her dress slid up even further. His breath hitched in his throat for some reason.

 _Stop,_ he told himself. _Stop_. _She's your patient and you want to help her_.

"Favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Like my eyes?"

"What?" Oliver's head snapped toward her and he froze, watching her as she pulled a confused face.

"I said like the sky.." she said slowly, furrowing her brows. "Are you okay, Doctor Thredson?" He nodded at her and looked at the clock. He put his cigarette out in the ash try and made his way back to his chair, sitting in it and grabbing a couple folders with firm hands and pretending to read off of them. "So, Adalyn, changing the subject, it says here that you were abused. Correct me if I'm wrong but that is what the Monsignor gathered from his initial analysis of you." He asked her and looked up, noticing she had looked back at the floor and her thumb was placed against her full bottom lip. His stomach grew warm.

"Yes." She answered quietly. "But.. it was only my stepdad. Never my mother.." She trailed off and bit her thumb. He stared at her, thinking hard. 

"And how did he abuse you? In what way?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and watched her intently, looking for some sort of sign in her expressionless face. 

"Both." She answered firmly. "In.. both ways." Oliver nodded and lit another cigarette, letting the silence fall for a couple of minutes.

"I see," he said, "And.. how did that make you feel?" He asked the stereotypical therapist question just to bide his time in studying her and he could almost hear her snort.

"How do you think it made me feel? Worthless, like I was nothing to either of my parents. They blamed me for everything. Everything." Her sentence was saddening to him but he had detected not too much bite in her answer. She was calming around him and he could feel the waters being put at ease. "You know, they didn't want me." She continued. "They wanted a boy. Not me. My mom wanted to put me up for adoption but my dad refused and just a couple years later, he's dead and there's a new man in her life who only kept me around to be used as a chew toy." Olivers eyes widened and he felt such deep sympathy. Somebody understood him. Someone understood what it was like to be abandoned and to be alone, to be used and made fun of. His finger twitched on the cigarette he was holding and he put it out in the ash try, it not even being halfway smoked. His heart was thudding against his chest and he felt that she was staring at him, waiting for him to give her an answer but it was like his tongue was stuck in the back of his throat. He made a motion with his hand for her to keep going.

Taking a deep breath, Adalyn closed her eyes and started picking at her thumb nail, bringing it up to her mouth and biting it vigorously.

"Nervous tick, huh?" He finally managed to speak. "I used to bite my nails as a child." Oliver looked down at his hands for a second, looking at his nails and smiling softly at the memory of it all. It was then he noticed he was visibly shaking and shoved his hands back in his pockets. "Sorry to be so bold, but I have to ask. Did your stepfather ever.. touch you, Adalyn?"

Her skin was filled with visible goosebumps and her breath hitched in her throat, her fingers grabbing the hem of her light blue asylum dress. "I don't want to continue." She spoke softly and bit back her tears. "I want to go back to my room now."

"So be it." He replied back to her and extended his hand for the second time since he had met, expecting her to claw at him again. _Touch my hand, Adalyn_ , his mind pleaded with her to give him some sort of physical contact. _Touch it_. Thredson stared at her intently, his brow raised slightly and his mind racing a million miles an hour. _She won't touch it, she won't touch your skin like a mother could. She won't touch anyone, especially not you._

Finally, Adalyn stood up and retreated to the door at a brisk walk, flinging it open and running downstairs past guards, Sister Jude, and multiple other patients who paid her no attention. No one cared for feelings in here. The only one who ever showed her any kind of respect or "love" was Frank, and that was because he told her she reminded him of his sister. She pulled open the big doors to the courtyard and looked up, noticing a thick layer of darkness covered the sun and she shivered, a chill going up her spine. She hugged her arms and brought her chin down to her chest, letting out a small sob. "I just want to go home.." She mumbled.

"We all wanna go home, kid." A voice piped up from behind her and Kit Walker strode up next to her, smiling sadly and looking up at the darkened sun with her. "Every person back there thinks that they're okay, that they can go home when they get better and to tell ya the truth, ain't no one in there have the intentions of lettin' anyone leave anytime soon." He shrugged and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, offering her one and her mind flashed to the cigarette sitting between Doctor Thredson's lips, dangling off his full bottom lip. She shook her head and scooted a couple inches away from Kit.

"But.. some of us are okay, Kit. Some of us haven't done anything. Well.. I can't say _I_ didn't do anything." She laughed softly and looked back up towards the window where Thredson was watching her from before. It was empty and for a split second she felt a pang of emptiness and disappointment. 

"Hey," Kit cheered her up, "Why don't you come to the common room with us later tonight? Me, Grace, Lana, Pepper; everyone really. They're lettin' us play some board games at every table, kinda like a... a game buffet I guess." He took a puff of his cigarette and nudged her with his elbow. All the sudden, everything changed and her mind with into a frenzy, her adrenaline kicking in and she whipped away from him, crying out and staring at him widely with her big blue eyes. 

"D-don't! Don't do that..!" she cried. Her eyes began to water and she felt like her throat was closing up. Kits mouth was wide open, his eyes brimming with a ready apology. 

"I'm so sorry, Adalyn, I didn't mean to hurt ya. _Did_ I hurt ya? Oh god, I'm sorry I didn't know I hit you that hard, I was just playin'." He rambled on and on and tried to touch the spot where he had nudged her but she pushed him with such force that he fell to the ground. 

"Stop touching me!" She yelled at him and now her tears were free-flowing down her cheeks. "Don't fuckin' touch me!" Guards and nuns were now gathered around them, watching her. Adalyn grabbed the spot where he had touched her twice and sobbed, her hands shaking and her heart about to explode in her chest. She looked up from Kit back to the window and froze as she saw Doctor Thredson in the window, leaning against the glass pane and taking a drag off his cigarette.

* * *

 

 

"Have you ever heard of exposure therapy?" He asked her and she shook her head. Oliver jotted down some notes. "Well, exposure therapy is a therapy used to treat anxiety, phobias, etc. So for example, you're scared of spiders, right? You are placed in the room with let's say, a tarantula. You will continue to sit in that room until you feel like you are no longer scared of what's with you. Until you feel comfortable and your anxiety is gone." He pointed his finger at her lazily before flipping through more papers. "With you.. I think it would suffice to say that this treatment would help you greatly." He licked his lips. "I've noticed in the past couple appointments that we've had, that you shy from physical contact. I noticed you in the courtyard with Kit, I watch how you refuse to touch Pepper when she's having a breakdown. I watch your eyes when the nuns take you for hydrotherapy. Taking these little tidbits of information into consideration, I might conclude that you have haphephobia."

"Happy what?" She asked him and leaned forward in the position she had been in on Thredson's couch.

"Haphephobia. It's a rare specific phobia that involves the fear of touching or of being touched. And I definitely do believe that you have it." He bit on his pen and stared at her, studying her facial expressions. "I think that it's the reason you freak out when people touch you, why you want to help Pepper but you can't because you feel disgusted. It's completely fine to have this, but as you may know, you cannot function in society like that. And that.. is _precisely_ why I'm here." He clapped his hands together and smiled at her.

"I.. I don't understand." She finally spoke up and he could see the tears forming in her eyelids and he felt a twitch of guilt in his chest. He almost hated diagnosing people. Either they took it with ease because it was something simple like depression or PTSD, or they took it terribly and lashed out at him. Although her disorder was far from strange, he could connect with her on why that would upset anyone. _No one has ever touched you the correct way,_ his mind whispered to him. _No one has ever touched her the correct way._ "And.. what do we do to fix this?" She motioned to herself with her hands and to his surprise, Adalyn had calmed herself down and was grasping her own hands in her lap now, her knees pressed together and her feet barely touching the floor. Oliver just now noticed how small and childlike she could be sometimes.

"Well, we do what I said earlier. Since you don't like being touched, we get someone you're familiar with and throughout the next couple of days, they will be your buddy. More specifically, whomever you choose will spend every moment of the day with you. Holding your hand when you can, sitting directly next to you, arms around each other. A hug a day is preferable and I would like you both to participate. Not just you stand there while said person hugs you. I can't really prescribe you medication unless I go directly through the Monsignor and Doctor Arden, so this is as close to a medication as you'll get." He finished and started writing in his notebook. "So, is there someone particular in mind that you feel you can do this with?"

It was silent for about 10 minutes and he didn't mind. Sometimes the silence was a relief and he enjoyed it because it gave him time to think. The clock ticked by idly and he continued to write little facts in his notebook, also reading other patients files while he was at it. He finally heard her body shift in position and he knew she was ready to talk.

"Doctor?" She piped up. "Why can't.. why can't you do it?" He gulped at her question and his eyes darted to the nape of her neck. His heart thudded like a hammer against cloth and his head reeled for a second, almost worrying him to the point where he felt like he was going to fall out of his chair to his knees.

"What?" He replied, trying to keep his calm and cool exposure under grips. He grasped the desk and stood up, making his way around to the front and sitting on the corner.

"I mean.. I don't.. I don't want anyone to know. I don't want people in here to not touch me or hold me or anything like that. Pepper will know. She's not as stupid as most people think she is. She'll tell everyone and no one will touch me. Kit will tell Grace, and Grace will tell Lana and Lana won't tell anyone but somehow Shelley will hear it, Sister Jude will hear it, the Monsignor will know it, Sister Mary Eunice will torture me about it for days. I don't think I could stand that."

"Well, I hope you do know that the Monsignor, at the least, has to know about it. He's the one who will be releasing you back into society _if_ I give you the green light."

She stayed silent and he could feel the room filling with tension at her unanswered question.

"Adalyn, your problems are far less than others in here, although it doesn't take away from them in the slightest. Yours are minuscule. A small phobia that can easily be cured if you meet me halfway. But I can't participate with you. Completely unprofessional." He said. He was smacking himself in the head if he could. _So soft, so fine, so fragile, so white,_ the words said in his head and he shut his eyes to make them go away. 

"But.. I don't.." she trailed off. "Okay. I understand." 

"We will continue next week, Adalyn. When someone is available. I'll let you go early so you don't miss break." He watched her slowly rise from the couch and fix her dress, smoothing it down with her delicate fingers. He had to stop himself from physically groaning. As she neared him to leave, he grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her to his chest. "I will help you." He whispered into her ear, his lips almost touching her. Her eyes were open wide and she dashed out, leaving behind a scent of cinnamon and bleach. He breathed her in and closed the door, sliding down to the floor and burying his face in his hands, letting out a choked sob so the guard on the other side wouldn't hear. _She is not mother,_ the words in his head told him _. She is too young, you don't like her. The skin isn't right. Her breasts are too supple, her body too curvy._ The voices lashed out at him in his head and he hit himself with his open palm.

"No." He whispered to himself. "She is a patient and I want to help."

* * *

 

Adalyn jogged down the hallway, wiping small tears from her face as she ran back to her cell. She heard the familiar voice of Frank call to her. "Hey, it's not time to go back to your cell, yer missing break."

"Please just let me in, Frank. I just want to lay down. I don't feel good." She said and Frank rolled his eyes, opening her door for her but not closing it all the way. "It's open if ya get bored." He said dully. She pushed the door closed with a loud click and she could practically hear Frank rolling his eyes again. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the darkness but eventually she could see and made her way to the bed, sitting down on it and wiping the last of tears from her cheeks. She didn't know why she was crying. All she knew was that she practically hated that fucking therapist and wanted to wrap her fingers around his neck and take the life out of his predatory dark brown eyes. She hated the way he stared at her without blinking, without moving his face, only taking a puff of his cigarette and smirking. It made her blood boil but it also made her stomach warm, a warmness she had only known once before when she was 15. When her and Bobby Esret from down the street snuck out during her family's annual Fourth of July party. 

They had laid in the grass in an open field, about a mile from their homes and he had kissed her, their teenage bodies pressing up against each other and her lower belly growing warm and heavy feeling. He tried to touch her but she panicked and pushed him off her and ran back to her house, where she told her mom. Her stepfather beat her that night after finding out. 

"That's all little boys want!" He screamed as he brought the belt down on her again. "You fucking whore!" He spat at her and whipped her again before pushing her towards the wall. 

She shook the memory from her head as the warmth in her stomach faded and left her with an empty feeling. Her moment of hatred was gone and she thought back to her session. She took in every detail of everything about him, his dark menacing eyes staring at her, his perfectly parted equally dark hair, his pale skin and ferocious eyebrows. The glint in his glasses when he looked at her while she was talking. If there was one thing she liked about him already, it was that he actually listened to her. No one had ever listened to her. Everyone brushed her off and she was left feeling irrelevant; like her problems didn't matter to anyone. But with Doctor Thredson, she knew it wasn't true. He listened and nodded, even replied to her. There was something inside her that screamed out to her to let him in because he just wanted to help, but she couldn't stop thinking about what Pepper had said to her. _"Evil.."_ She mumbled against her pillow as she laid down on the stiff bed. _"Evil.."_


	2. Let It Happen... Or Don't?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors are spreading around the asylum about Thredson and Adalyn, and Adalyn isn't exactly denying them.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Adalyn picked at her thumb nail, which was almost already depleted to a nub. She bit some skin off and chewed the tiny piece, spitting it out onto the floor and biting the other end. If she kept this up, she wouldn't have any fingers left. She imagined what her hands would look like as nubs, small and balloon-like. She wondered if that would be better than being stuck in here, being scrutinized by everyone, even the other patients. Especially people like Shelley. God, she hated Shelley. When Adalyn had first arrived here, she didn't put up much of a fight until Shelley teased her as the guards checked her for any weapons, rubbing their hands on her body and lingering on certain _parts_. She had felt like she was going to pass out and she couldn't breathe, no matter how hard she tried. And there was Shelley, the succubus of the realm, leaning against one of the doorframes, watching her and smirking, circling her breasts with the tips of her fingers.

Adalyn vomited on the spot and the guard smacked her, only to be reprimanded by Sister Mary Eunice, who had changed in just a matter of a couple of days. She was a blossom before, yellow and bright and full of love for every individual in this place, but one day she had turned dark and promiscuous, bringing a cloud of dread wherever she roamed. The patients had even joked that she was possessed by a demon or the Devil, but everyone knew she had just turned stone-cold bitch.

Shelley had decided it was a good idea to tell people that Doctor Thredson and Adalyn were sleeping together, that they snuck away during the late hours of the night, around witching hour, and engaged in sexual intercourse in the hydrotherapy room, steam from the bath bouncing off the walls. She claimed she could even hear them both calling out each others names, writhing in unison and panting. Everyone believed her of course, they had nothing better to do. They whispered when Adalyn walked by, holding her hands together in front of her and avoiding eye contact with anyone. She heard everything they said, even things that Shelley hadn't said. That the Doctor wanted to break her out and live with her, that she was pregnant with his child already and that she wanted to abort it. 

She bit her thumb too hard and winced, looking at the drawn blood. Her mind flashed back to her first meeting with Doctor Thredson, when she had cut his hand with her nails and he stared at her, licking the blood off his hand. She felt her stomach grow warm then, tingling with what felt like fire licking the insides of her. Her face grew hot and she stuck her tongue out, licking the droplet of blood that formed on her thumb and closing her eyes, humming softly. She sucked on it, getting rid of the blood and right as she did, there came a knock at her partially open cell door.

"Adalyn?" A small accented voice came. "Are you in there?"

"Yeah, I'm in here, Grace. Just tired. You can come in if you like." She sat up, criss-crossing her legs and putting her dress over her knees and smiling at her as she walked in, then realized that Grace didn't look so happy to see Adalyn.

"They're.. they're saying a lot of things about you, Addie. A lot of things. Now.. I'm not saying I believe any of them but it bothers me to hear them speak of you like that." She frowned and noticed that Adalyn's finger had started to bleed. "Oh, you're bleeding! You bit too far, huh? Kit does that. He gets nervous." She twiddled with her own thumbs and looked at the floor. "Those rumors.. aren't true, right?"

"I shouldn't have to answer that." Adalyn mumbled sarcastically, standing up. "It wouldn't be anyone's business anyways, would it?" She spat out at Grace and turned around, folding her arms. "I can't believe you would think I'm that sort of person, Grace.. I hate that man as much as anyone else in here." She shook her head sadly and had to bite her lip to stop the tears. She was adamant in telling people she hated him because that's what she wanted to believe herself, but she had grown closer during the couple appointments that they've had since she lashed out at him. He had vowed to help her, whispering in her ear that he promised. She believed him and it upset her because she hated putting trust into anyone.

"I just.." Grace sighed and laughed a little. "I don't know what to believe in here anymore. Doctor Arden says he wants to help people, just like Thredson, but then takes them away and no one ever sees them again. At least I see you again. Still can't help but feel weird about him."

"It's okay. I understand. Sometimes people just need a little gossip in this place, I guess. It's normal. Can't say if the gossip was about someone else, that I wouldn't participat-" Her sentence was interrupted as someone knocked on the cell door again and lo and behold, Thredson stood at the entryway, clipboard in hand, a pen behind his ear. 

"Sorry to interrupt," he quickly apologized, "but I have some important information to share with Ms. Erin." He smiled at Grace politely and moved aside for her to make her way out. Grace nodded slowly, touching Adalyn on the shoulder and Adalyn flinched away. 

Grace flinched back and backed up. "Sorry, Addie.. see you.. in the common room I guess? Well, you never go in there anyways, so.." She turned around and pushed her way past Doctor Thredson, hitting his shoulder with hers as she went. Thredson practically rolled his eyes at her over dramatic tendencies and looked at Adalyn, eyes traveling down her body to her feet, noticing she had no shoes on. 

"Mind if I close the door?" He asked, grabbing the handle and closing it before she answered. She jumped at the sound of it slamming shut and turned around to look at him.

"What did you need to tell me that was _so_ important that you scared Grace away?" She snapped at him and sat on her bed, criss-crossing her legs again but not bothering to cover up anything this time. She could care less now that the door was closed. She had nothing to be embarrassed about in here. 

"If I might be so bold to say, I wasn't the one who scared her away." Oliver instantly regretted his choice of words and winced. "Sorry. That was rude of me." he apologized and he could see her shrug off his insult. She began to braid her hair and sat up against the wall.

"Uh-uh. Nervous tick, remember?" He reminded her, pointing to his head with his index finger, tapping, and she put her hands down in her lap. "Just trying to help. Mind if I sit?" He asked and she shrugged.

"You probably will, anyways."

He laughed heartily and sat down next to her, flipping a couple pages on his clipboard to gather his thoughts. "Remember how last week I asked you to find someone to participate with you in your exposure therapy?"

"Yes, why?" She replied back slowly, hesitant on what was about to come.

"Well you've basically failed to do what I asked. I'm not saying you haven't tried but it just isn't working." He continued and sighed a little. "And then, when you were with me, you asked me a question. A question I had previously said no to because it's completely against the rules and I could have my license revoked, which would be unfortunate for everyone in here, including you. But I gave it a little thought, and I figured we could work our way around it." He smiled at her and she looked up at him with bright eyes. "I _can_ participate with you in this therapy but there is a catch: meet me halfway. Just like I asked." Thredson searched her eyes for an answer. "We have to do this in private though." He finished and wrote something down on his clipboard, then ripped it off and gave it to her. "Hide this well because I'm not sure if the guards or the sisters will take it away. My guess is yes, but just be safe."

She took the paper and looked at it. On it were written times and places, even little drawings he had scribbled. "Are these.. meeting places?" She asked and squinted. "Not much of an artist, are you?"

He laughed a little and relaxed. "Yes. They are. And no, I'm not. Hence why I majored in psychiatry, hmm?" He teased her. "So are you okay with this?" 

"I.. I don't know. I kind of hoped you'd forget but apparently you did not." She smiled a little and he relished in the moment of getting to see her happy for a split second. He shook his head slightly and banished these thoughts, clenching his fists by his side. It was a therapists sole purpose to help them, to relinquish them of all demons and thoughts and illnesses and now he found himself getting a little too happy and comfortable with one of them. _Stop_ , he pleaded with himself, _please stop_. _This is not what you want. You want mature skin, a motherly skin. A skin to lie on and feed off of. A skin for warmth and comfort._

His thoughts flash back to his intimate relations with his first cadaver. Cold and smelling of formaldehyde. He cried that night, clutching a blanket to his chest and sobbing, calling out for his mother. He went through so many women, so many bodies and pieces of them. Not once did he feel guilty for Kit being blamed for his actions. Thredson was too good at his job to be taken away. He would name Kit as mentally ill so at least he wouldn't fry in the chair.

"No, I did not. Therapists forget nothing." He tapped on his head with his finger and then stood up. "May we start with a hand touch?" He asked and held his hand out for the third time since they had met. She stared at him, breaking out in a sweat and her breathing was getting faster by the second. Her arms grew stiff and her heart pounded, almost feeling like it was chugging so hard it would bounce out of her throat. "I don't bite." Thredson said and Adalyn thought back to his tongue licking his blood. There was silence between them for a couple of seconds before she reached out and brushed her fingers against his, lingering for a couple seconds and licking her upper lip, which was perspiring profusely.

Oliver felt a jolt go up his spine and to his head, making him dizzy for a couple seconds but standing still, relishing in the softness of her fingertips against his. He could've groaned right then and there, but he stifled his sounds and stared at her, watching her hand linger around his before she finally made the commitment and grasped his hand. He felt the initial shock at first flood his body and then it was cooled down by warmth in his groin, and he shivered noticeably. Her eyes were closed and she bit her bottom lip, presumably to contain her tears.

"Are you okay?" He whispered to her, not trying to scare her. He noticed he was rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb and she seemed to be soothed a little bit by this.

"I.. I haven't held someone's hand since I was little. With my mom." She never took her eyes off of his grip and she watched his thumb rub the top of her hand.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. "We can stop anytime." He continued his movements with his thumb, realizing that she wasn't pulling away just yet. 

"I'm okay. A little uncomfortable but I think I'm okay." She said softly and then began to rub _his_ hand with _her_ thumb.

"Good. Good." He said, cooing her. "You're doing fantastic, Adalyn." Her name rolled off his tongue and she smiled a little. It had been so long since she'd been complimented and it made her feel good about herself. Through years of abuse from her stepfather and neglect from her mother, here was this man standing 2 feet or less in front of her, arm extended and holding her hand. His voice soothed her and she could feel her chest tighten as she blushed and turned away from him. He released his grip, cursing himself in his head, and wrote something down on the clipboard.

"That was very good. This will go quite smoothly throughout the next couple of weeks if you can keep up with that." He smiled at her and put his writing utensil back behind his ear. "Now, Grace wanted to see you in the common room, so I urge you to get going." He knocked on the cell door.

"We're done here." He said to the guard and the door was opened almost immediately. He slipped out quickly, leaving Adalyn alone to her thoughts. She took a deep breath and stuck the note he left her in her pillowcase. Bringing her hand up, she trailed her finger along the spot where Doctor Thredson had constantly rubbed. She still felt warm and her head was reeling, a million thoughts and questions that no one had the answer to. She had started to get off the bed, but her eyes opened wide when she realized that the asylum given underwear she had been wearing felt damp and warm. She made sure no one was standing in the small space Thredson had left and lifted up her dress to see her underwear. There was a dark wet spot on the front and she felt the fire in her belly grow. Sitting back down, she bit her lip and noticed Frank had left his post in front of the door. 

 _Have you ever been touched, Adalyn?_   Thredson's voice rang in her ears, her recalling their first meeting in his office. No one had ever touched her like that, and she surely had never touched herself. Her fingers trailed down her stomach and lingered around the hem of her underwear, hesitant and unsure. Finally, she slid her hand in and her middle finger found the slit and she gasped, lurching forward slightly. Her eyes fluttered closed and Adalyn laid down, moving her middle finger in circular motions along the small pleasure spot she found and she bit her lip, her chest heaving up and her leg muscles clenching. Spreading her legs more, she moved faster, trying to stifle the noises that were coming from her mouth. Her other hand slid up her dress and cupped her breast, circling the nipple and she felt electricity surging through her body. Her fingers moved faster, her body almost thrusting upwards and her toes curled inwards. She let out a small moan and envisioned Doctor Thredson's hand around hers, his thumb rubbing her palm and then her mind switched to him pressed against her body, his arm between their bodies and his fingers working fast on her. She let out another moan and bit her lip. Hearing a shuffling noise, she froze and looked towards the door and her eyes opened wide.

Doctor Thredson was standing in the doorway, leaned against the doorframe, staring at her and chewing on the eraser of his pencil. She breathed heavily.

"Don't let me stop you." He mumbled and crossed his arms.

She watched him for a couple seconds, then continued to rub herself with her finger, making eye contact and watching him breathe heavily. She moaned again, biting her lip and arching her hips upward. She slid a finger inside herself, humming to herself and she licked her lips, watching Thredson start to sweat and struggle with whatever inner demons were inside him. He had a heavy erection that made its presence known in his pants and she smiled, rolling her eyes in the back of her head and moaning loudly. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white and she reached her climax and moaned repeatedly, watching him and quivering underneath her own touch. She rode the final wave and bit her lip, removing her hand from her underwear and looking at him.

He licked his lips in return.

"That was good." He said quietly, nodding. " _Very_ good." He finally broke eye contact and looked down at his shoes before taking a deep breath.

"We meet tomorrow for the next session. Don't forget." He purred to her before leaving again and she was left in her cell, her body recovering from a passionate experience with herself for the first time. It was so funny how one second he was there, and the next second he was gone and he had barely spoken any words to her. Adalyn closed her eyes and let her arms fall next to her tired body, tears springing to her eyes and chest tightening again. She hated herself for thinking about him touching her, his breath against her neck and his gelled hair dripping with sweat. But underneath the disappointment she had for herself, she could not stop herself from feeling excited about their next meeting and what would come from it. She knew it would be a wild ride. Literally.


	3. Gods and Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO fucking sorry this took so long. I've had a shit couple of months, lol.

Adalyn felt her heart flutter in her chest as she stared at the clock in the common room. The same french song rolled around in her head but she didn't mind it this time. She thought back to Thredson, standing in her doorway, noticeable bulge and sweat dripping down from his temple as he watched her thoroughly as she touched herself. Shivers went up her spine and she shook her body to rid herself of them. 

"Hey Kit," she turned her head over to Kit who was picking at his nails, a common bad habit in this place, "what does it feel like to be in love?" She looked down at the floor and pursed her lips as Kit turned to her, cheeks filling with red and eyelashes fluttering vivaciously. He cleared his throat before sniffing and chuckling to himself.

"Well, I mean.. it's like this really tight feelin' when you think of someone. Like someone is reaching into ya and _twistin'_ your guts all over and makin' you feel like you can't breathe. It.. makes you smile. And when you smile, you want to cry. You wanna cry so bad because you would die if anything ever happened to 'em." He continued to pick his nails and sniffed. "It's warm and nice but it's cold sometimes. When you think you love someone but you're not really sure about 'em yet. You wanna figure 'em out." His eyes flashed to Grace for a couple of seconds on the opposite side of the room. "Sorry, I'm just ramblin' I guess. Did that make any sense?" He asked and looked over at her.

She smiled a soft smile and looked down at her feet. "Yes." She whispered before standing up and patting her dress down. "Well, thanks for the insight, Kit. Was just curious."

He nodded at her. "You ok, Addie?" Kit scrunched his face up at her and furrowed his brows. "You seem a little off lately."

"I'm amazing." She replied with a bright smile and a high voice before turning around swiftly, her blue asylum dress flowing behind her as she made her way along the hallway to Thredson's office. Tracing her fingers along the wall, she couldn't contain the bubbling and butterflies in her stomach as she got closer and closer to his office as she traveled through the asylum. People rarely smiled in the place, so everyone knew it was odd that this fairly new girl was roaming the halls, practically skipping and a big grin on her face. Finally, she reached his room and took a deep breath. The door was ajar and she could hear low talking from inside so of course, her curiosity tendencies kicked in and she leaned against the wall, leaving her fingers pressed up against it softly, she closed her eyes and focused her hearing on the voices.

"I know he did it, Doctor. I know he killed those women." Lana voice rumbled from inside. "I can see it on his face." She slid a hand over her face in a waving motion. "He just _looks_ guilty." She twisted her face up and rolled her eyes. 

"I understand what you're feeling, but there still needs to be a psychic evaluation, Ms. Winters. We cannot just solely accuse him because we 'have a feeling'." Thredson's voice was barely audible; a dull whisper. Even though Adalyn could barely hear him, she knew he sounded irritated at Lana.

"You just want to drag your time out, don't you? You want to evaluate every person in here until we feel like some sort of ant, being looked at under a child's magnifying glass. Ridiculous." Lana's voice had started to get louder and Adalyn heard footsteps coming toward the door.

Trying to back out of sight, she was too late and met eyes with Thredson just as he was closing the door. He paused, stared at her with dark chocolate eyes and mouthed 'one minute'." She nodded as he closed the door and she could no longer make out their words, just the sound of them talking. She sighed and fiddled with her hair, which was surprisingly kept down today for the most part. She had stopped fidgeting with it after Thredson pointed out that it was a nervous tick. Something for her hands to do so no one would touch her. She ran her fingers over the ends as she noticed that a cut on her finger was scabbing over. Her thoughts raced back to when they first met. When she had cut him and he licked his own blood off of his hands, making eye contact the whole time.

She picked the scab off and watched as the blood began to trickle out, little by little, making a red river path down her finger. She watched it and pursed her lips, imaging a small boat in the blood, filled with little blood cells complete with little sailor hats, rowing against the current and trying to make their way back into the cut. 

Her thoughts were interrupted as a hand gripped her wrist and she gasped, trying to pull away. The form in front of her was large, familiar, and smelled comforting. Her eyes traveled up to the familiar face of Thredson and she relaxed only a little.

"What did you do?" He asked as he motioned to her cut on her finger. He brought her hand closer to his face and inspected the wound. "Come. I'll bandage it up for you before it gets on your clothes." He released his grip on her and retreated into his office, standing on his toes and bringing down a first aid kit from on top of one of the bookcases. Opening it up, he searched through it before he found some peroxide, a bandaid, and some bandage to wrap up the bandaid for extra security. 

She closed the door behind her and stared at him. He looked up. "What?" Thredson furrowed his brow at her, nodding his head at the couch for her to sit down. She obeyed and made her way to the couch, sitting down and waiting for him. Her heart was a hammer against cloth in her chest and she twiddled her thumbs in her lap. She felt the couch give into weight beside her and saw him sitting next to her out of the corner of her eye. 

"Hand." He ordered and she obliged willingly, handing her finger over to him and he took it in his hand, gripping her wrist softly and inspecting it again. "How did you do this?" He asked and looked at her. 

"Who knows? Sometimes I get them and I don't realize they're there until days later when the scab has formed." She shrugged and watched him look at her finger. There was silence for a couple seconds before she felt him squeezing her finger, blood rising to the top of the cut like a bubble. 

"W-what-" She stuttered as he brought her finger up to his mouth, kissing it and looking at her with blood stained lips and monster eyes. Her mouth was hung open, eyes wide and heart about to burst out of her chest. Goosebumps formed on her skin and she almost winced as he begin smear the blood on his lips more and more. Thredson licked the wound once more before slipping her finger into his mouth and closing his eyes, licking around the cut. She felt her chest heat up and her insides twist as she felt the warmth travel down into her lower stomach, boiling and bubbling in her underwear and she could moan if she wanted to.

He removed the finger from his mouth and it was now rid of any blood. She stayed frozen, mouth open and eyes wide at him. Drying her finger off with a tissue, he swiftly poured the peroxide onto her finger, dried it again and wrapped the bandaid around it. "Had to stop the bleeding." He mumbled finally and broke the silence. Thredson then wrapped the bandaid in a small bandage and taped it off. "There. You should be fine now."

Her mind was racing but her mouth was silent. Adalyn tried to process what had just happened between the two of them but for some reason, a cat had her tongue. As awkward as she wanted it to be, it wasn't and she hated it.

"So. You're early today. Which means that you should have something to share with me that you couldn't have possibly waited any longer for." Thredson had tried his best to be condescending and irritated, but when he looked into those big solemn blue eyes, he found it rather difficult. He could see that she knew his words were all bark and no bite. She smiled at his can-do attitude with trying to be the "boss man" and for a second, she completely forgot where she was.

Sitting in a dusty office room, surrounded by books, lights, papers, and a man who was only here to make her feel substantially less insane. She was some sort of bug under a bright light, being poked and prodded and chided for silly things. His sweet words of, "I won't hurt you", and "I only want to help" started to sound crazier than she felt she was. This man in front of her, sucking her wound to clean it and bandaging it up for her, was paid to be here and help her, and as soon as he felt he could give the Monsignor the green light, he was going to be out of there and she would never see him again. She was just a paycheck to him.

Adalyn retreated into the corner of the couch, scrunching up her face and staring at him with menacing eyes. Oliver reached to touch her on the knee and she slapped his hand away.

"I'm only here to.. talk about when I can leave." She avoided looking at his eyes and stared at his shoes on the ground, shiny and clean, not a scuff or dirt mark.

"When you can leave? We've barely had enough time together. I can't give you my permission unless I feel there's been a significant change in your behavior, and from what I'm observing now, it seems like you're regressing." He attempted to lay his hand on her knee once more, and she twitched, but relaxed into his touch soon after.

"When.. you're done helping," she paused for a second and swallowed, "what if I don't change on the outside? What if I'm okay in _here_ , but I won't be okay out _there_?" She shook her head solemnly and finally looked into his dark eyes.

He sighed and rubbed her knee with his thumb in a comforting motion. "I have an idea." He spoke finally and the corners of his lips twitched up into a smile "Maybe I can take you on as my patient out there as well. We can have regularly scheduled appointments just like this, where you can talk to me and I can help you if you're having any struggles or problems. Is that ok?" He asked and licked his upper lip.

She took a second to talk but her heart was already a million miles ahead of her tongue. Hiding her giddiness, she collected herself and nodded slowly. "I think that would suffice."

"Good. So now that we've established one worry of yours, what's going on in your head today, Addie?" She blushed at his pet name as he positioned himself on the couch to face her, pulling his legs into criss cross style like a child. She did the same, removing her shoes and letting them slip onto the floor as she wiggled her toes in her dirty white socks. "Comfortable?" He laughed.

She giggled and nodded. "Sorry, they got me a new pair and I haven't broken them in yet."

He laughed again and tilted his head, smirking. His hands darted for his shoes and he unlaced them, pulling them off his feet and placing them neatly together on the floor below them.

"I'll do it too."

Adalyn looked at his dark black socks, a huge contrast to her white ones and she realized it was sort of representative of them.  Her white socks were white, pure, and covered in little smudges of dirt and dust. Adalyn was pure and innocent, young and soft and full of love to give but there were blemishes on her soul. Something covering what could really shine bright if she let it.

His were black, threatening, and perfectly clean; a man who had everything in place for himself. Oliver was hidden, had a strict sense of humor and a set of ideals, and he knew what he was doing. You put those two together, you get polar opposites. Two people who would never have connected outside of the mysterious arrangements of the asylum. She bit at her nail and stared at his face, looking for some sort of emotion. He was like a robot, programmed to do certain things at certain times and you could never tell what he would do next.

She finally spoke. "People are saying things about us." She bit off the longest nail she had and spit it onto the ground.

"What sort of things?" He asked and leaned on his hand, elbow on his leg. "Good or bad?"

She hesitated. "I think bad. Well, I think other people think they're bad things." She scratched her neck and left her hand there, trailing her fingers down her jugular and looking into his eyes. He swallowed harshly and blinked two or three times, each blink only a mere second after the last.

"So bad things. I see. What are they?" Oliver asked again and put his free hand on her knee, rubbing it again to soothe her nerves as he could tell she was nervous.

"Well.. they say you favor me out of all the other patients. That I'm your favorite and you spend more time with me than the other ones." Her hand traveled to his and she draw small circles on the top of his hand with her finger. "That we have some sort of unprofessional relationship."

His breath hitched in his throat at the skin to skin contact and images of her sprawled on the bed, hair splayed around her and moaning flashed into his head.

"To be truthful, I do spend more time with you. But that's just because you come to my office for your scheduled appointments. Everyone else seems to be flaky. They come when they're forced by Sister Jude or the Monsignor. You come because you want to get better. I like that in you." He poked her in the chest lightly, smiling at her and a blush rose onto her face as she looked down trying to hide her smile.

"You're much nicer than Arden." She giggled a little, twirling a strand of hair in her finger. 

"You shouldn't care what they say, Addie. You're getting the help you _need_ , and that's what's most important here. Not the rumors of insignificant others." He pursed his lips.

"On another note, I think today would be a really fantastic day for an exposure therapy session."

She froze a little as she recalled what happened in the last session and how he watched her with hunger from her door. Her eyes darted back and forth between both of his and she sighed. "I think so, too. It makes me nervous though."

"That's perfectly normal. Like I said before, we can stop any time." He paused for a second because he could see in her expression that she knew what was coming. "It's going to be okay." Thredson reassured her and gripped her knee tightly. Releasing his hold on her, he slid off the couch and stood up, patting down his suit and clearing his throat. Adalyn watched him with nervousness coursing through her body.

 _It's just a hug,_ she thought. _Just a hug. I can do it._

She followed his actions and stood in front of him, looking up at him with a worried expression and pursed lips. Oliver stood still, eyes closed and a steady breath flowing through stretched nostrils. Her mind was racing and her stomach felt like she was about to hurl all over his floor. Everything was happening so fast and she felt trapped. In her mind, he was 10 feet tall, snarling and mean with a raspy voice that snapped at her for being slow, but she tried to tell her mind to leave her alone. Her face scrunched up in pain as she reached out and put one hand on his waist, shuddering at the touch as she let out a hefty whimper.

"It's okay." He whispered, eyes still closed and a calm exposure warped around his body. Her other hand swung up and touched his other hip, gripping it softly as he kept himself from smiling at how brave she was. Adalyn's body inched closer to his as her hands traveled to his upper back, grabbing onto his shoulders. Clenching her teeth together, she laid her head on his chest softly and miraculously gave into him, relaxing into his body and closing his eyes. He smelled like he always did and she had grown so used to it and it was so familiar to her. So comforting and welcoming. Her hands traveled to the nape of his neck and she brushed her fingers against his hairline as he let out a soft breath.

"You are doing _so_ well." He whispered as he put his chin on her head. They stood there, Oliver's hands at his sides and hers up around his neck, for almost 10 minutes before Thredson had started to get a cramp from not moving. 

"Addie?" He spoke softly to her before taking his chin off of her head and peeling himself from her. "I think this should complete today's session." She looked up at him with parted lips and a solemn expression on her face.

"Oh." She said quietly and her eyes traveled down to his lips. They stared at each other for a couple seconds as she contemplated her relationship with him. He was something different, something special and mysterious and she wanted to figure him out. She pulled her face closer to her, noses almost touching as they breathed in unison and closed their eyes together, taking in each others scent.

"You're my favorite doctor." She whispered onto his lips and his body filled with electricity. He was on fire. His head was reeling, his heart thudding, and his stomach felt like it was boiling itself. He had never felt this way before and had half a mind to make a doctors appointment to check himself out for any illness that  could cause him to feel like this.

He pushes his lips onto hers and she immediately grabs the back of his neck, pushing his face against her soft, warm skin. The butterflies in Adalyn's stomach took off, breaking from their cocoon and flying around inside of her, practically ready to burst. Her hands got shaky and she gripped onto the base of his hairline for grip as she felt her knees almost collapse on her. She had never felt this way before. Never felt so warm and so safe; so free and able to do anything. She felt _strong._

Oliver's eyes fluttered open as her lips were still pressed against his and he smiled into her kiss. Pulling away for a quick second, looked down at her with plump lips and sweat building on his brow and forehead.

"That was a very.. advanced step in your treatment." He slightly joked before smiling and earning a little smirk in return. 

"Thank you." She said quietly before placing her head on his chest again and wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing him. Pursing his lips, he reciprocated the gesture and pulled her in for a hug.

"Today was a good session." He said after a couple of seconds.

_She's yours._

 


End file.
